Hey Stranger

Mar 4, 2023

1 min read

By Chhaya Giri

Remember when our eyes met?

Momentary storm on a mundane set.

Did you picture us walking, by the graves of our past?

Nails plunged on each other, feeling as one at last.

Or you thought of building me a cold shiny shrine,

You never believed in god, but you wanted to try.

Forgotten faces,

Haunting eyes.

Glimpse of hope,

In disguise.

By Chhaya Giri

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